


sinkin' soon

by Over_the_Love204



Series: maybe i'm a different breed [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Chamber of Secrets, DA - Freeform, Dragons, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Freeform, Snatchers, horcrux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:03:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Over_the_Love204/pseuds/Over_the_Love204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows, "Little King." The one in which Stefan and friends return to a changed Hogwarts, find a horcrux, and open the Chamber of Secrets, while Damon turns the Ministry upside down and Katherine is up to her neck in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sinkin' Soon

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are; the seventh installment. It's been a while, hasn't it? I apologize for the long, long, long, long wait, readers. Hopefully, it was worth it; I feel pretty good about this one.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or Harry Potter. I do not own any movie/book/TV series quotations, along with anything else recognizable.

" _DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY, STILL RECRUITING." ― J.K. Rowling,_ _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

Elena Petrova turned over in her bed, sighing with pleasure as her bare skin rubbed against the soft sheets beneath her and the warm quilt covering her back. She scooted closer to the patch of warmth to her right and snuggled close. Arms circled around her, fingers caressing the small of her back and Elena smiled into her lover's shoulder.

"Morning beautiful," A low voice whispered into her ear and Elena shivered.

"Good morning, Stefan," Elena said and tilted her head up for a kiss. Her boyfriend complied, and Elena reveled in the softness of Stefan's lips and the heat generated at the touch.

"Rise and shine, young lovers!" Damon's voice crowed from the doorway. Elena squealed and dived under the blankets.

"Damon!" Stefan's eyes widened, pulling the blankets high over Elena.

"Oh, calm down," Damon rolled his eyes and the wand in his right hand as he stood leaning on the door hinge, "If I see something I haven't before, I'll throw a dollar at it."

Elena clapped her hands to her mouth to keep from giggling. Stefan glared.

Damon held up his hands in mock surrender, "Okay, okay, I'm leaving. Just wanted to stop by and tell you I was going to work and not to do anything I wouldn't do."

"Damon," Stefan repeated.

"It's a short list," Damon added on, blinking innocently, and Stefan picked up his pillow and threw it at Damon's face. The older wizard just laughed and shut the door, letting the pillow hit and fall harmlessly to the floor.

"That was mortifying," Stefan said as the flush slowly left his face.

Elena resurfaced and laughingly said, "Damon's crazy."

"No kidding," Stefan muttered.

"So, do you want to get up or . . ." Elena trailed off and looked at Stefan through her eyelashes.

Stefan's green eyes pierced her big brown ones as he leant in for another kiss.

* * *

Damon was laughing quietly to himself as he Appparated to bathrooms where Ministry employees were made to 'flush themselves in.' He got into line, which was unfortunately behind a big oaf of a man, Albert Runcorn. The wizard was a nasty piece of work and favored by Dolores Umbridge. He had a large frame with short dark hair and pale complexion, with a twisted sneer to his lips that never seemed to leave.

Runcorn went into the stall and Damon heard the sound of flushing, and a moment later the stall door opened again for him. Wrinkling his nose, Damon stepped into the toilet, frowning at his soggy boots.

"Whoever thought this was a good idea deserves to be given straight to You-Know-Who," Damon snarled aloud, ignoring the hisses and gasps in the lines and stalls next to his. "Here goes." He flushed himself down and the nasty sensation of being squeezed through a tight space engulfed him. Damon's insides felt like mush when he stepped out through the fireplace at the Ministry seconds later and he rung out his clothes.

Damon walked through the large entryway and saw the numerous posters stamped on the wall about Undesirable No. 1: Harry Potter. "That's new," Damon muttered, eyebrows rising.

In the Atrium, Damon saw a sight that made him want to go back to bed, which Stefan and Elena had no doubtlessly done. The new 'Minister' Pius Thicknesse was standing in between Runcorn and Umbridge, and was giving some sort of speech. Umbridge seemed to be adding something.

"-and you have nothing to be afraid of if you have nothing to hide." The woman who was encompassed in pink robes smiled a little too brightly.

Damon walked quickly to his office and found Alaric standing at his desk.

"Damon, things aren't looking good," Alaric said as quietly as he could into Damon's ear. "Umbridge is giving every Ministry employee an inspection. She's getting rid of all the muggleborns."

Not particularly surprised, Damon told him, "Well, she can't get rid of me. Though I might want to leave all by myself soon."

"Damon, this is serious," Alaric hissed, "She's got a vendetta against you, and you know it. Umbridge is going to use every trick in the book to get you."

"Well, I'll just have to leave first, won't I?" Damon smirked. "Besides, you're half-blood too, so you won't be sacked."

Alaric sighed with irritation and shook his head, "Just watch your back, alright? Don't go out of your way to taunt her like you usually do. She could try to send you to Azkaban, and then where would your brother be? Probably next."

Damon frowned. He hated that Alaric knew him so well sometimes. "Yeah, yeah. I'll stay out of her way unless it's needed for Order assignments, happy?"

'Rick nodded with resignation and headed to his own desk next to Damon's and sat down heavily.

* * *

Elena liked staying with the Salvatore's, even though Damon was an outright flirt 99.9% of the time. He and Stefan bickered playfully whenever in the same room, and Elena found herself getting used to the normality. She'd not heard from her parents or siblings since they'd tried to get her home before her birthday. After she'd turned seventeen and wrote a letter to tell them all to leave off, she'd not been contacted since.

Elena felt a pang in her heart though, every once in a while. She missed Katherine and Jeremy both; how could she not? She'd grown up with them – Katherine taught her some of her very first wand tricks and told her all about boys. Jeremy was her little brother; hers to protect and watch out for. Wonderful job there, Elena thought to herself sourly.

She missed her parents; wonderful Mr. and Mrs. Petrova - her father, who had read to her at night when she was a small child, and her mother who had worried incessantly over her three children.

Elena sighed as she pulled her clothes on and walked into the kitchen of their apartment. Stefan stood in front of the stove cooking eggs and bacon, by the smell of it.

"You know, it's not smart to cook on the open stove without a shirt on," Elena said. She could see Stefan's strange curse scar in the shape of a rose on his shoulder. He wore shorts that only fell to cover his knees; giving Elena a full view of the backs of Stefan's recently scarred calves.

"Yeah," Stefan agreed absently. Elena slipped into a chair and watched Stefan cook, content. Her owl, a small, reddish brown female called Sif, tapped on the window above the kitchen sink.

"Could you let her in?" Elena asked and Stefan moved over and pushed the window open for the little bird to fly through. Tied to her legs were two letters with the Hogwarts' seal stamped on them. "Our school letters arrived," Elena pointed out and untied the envelopes from Sif's foot as she held it out for Elena to take. Stefan turned off the oven and brought a couple plates for the two of them over and sat next to Elena. She handed Stefan his letter, which he opened – it was the usual thing, despite the fact that Professor Dumbledore was dead, Snape was Headmaster, and there were two other Death Eaters teaching.

"Would you like to go to Diagon Alley this morning?" Elena suggested, "Get it over and done with and hope that none of family's there?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Stefan said, "I'd send Damon a Patronus telling him where we're going or Floo him, but he's gone all paranoid since the end of the school year."

"With good reason," Elena pointed out, "Everything's being monitored." The two lovers ate their breakfast in the onset of silence and when finished they quickly cleared their plates in the sink and got dressed and went through the Floo into Diagon Alley.

"Do you need to go to Gringott's?" Stefan turned and looked at Elena. The witch shook her head and laced her fingers through Stefan's.

"No," Elena said, blinking her big doe eyes up at him, "I have everything I need." Both of the teens had their warm wooden wands in their pockets and within easy reach. They walked into Flourish and Blotts first and Stefan pulled out his slightly creased Hogwart's letter and his eyebrows furrowed.

"What is it?" Elena asked quietly.

"Nothing I hadn't expected or Damon hadn't anticipated," Stefan said grimly and showed Elena the list of books they would need for their Seventh Year. Elena scowled as she went down the list.

"Those are _all_ Dark," Elena said, unsurprised but angry nonetheless.

"Come on," Stefan murmured into Elena's hair and led her around the store and together, they picked out the necessary books. Once the two young wizards had paid for their school things, they walked quickly through the mostly deserted road that ran through Diagon Alley.

Stefan's eyes flashed towards the Weasley twins' joke shop, windows darkened with no lights.

"The oldest Weasley's getting married today, isn't he?" Stefan asked idly.

"Uh huh," Elena nodded, "Bill, I think it is. He's marrying the French girl that participated with Harry in Fourth Year for the Triwizard Tournament."

"Fleur Delacour," Stefan nodded.

Stefan and Elena clasped hands and Disapparated.

* * *

_September 1_ _st_

"Be careful," Damon commanded as his icy eyes flashed. Stefan and Elena stood close to each other on the platform with their trunks at their feet. Loki batted at Elena's owl, Sif, and the little bird hooted indignantly.

Stefan squeezed Elena's manicured hand in his and he nodded firmly at his brother. "Of course."

"Good man," Damon clapped Stefan's shoulder and kissed Elena's cheek. "Don't worry if I don't answer some of your letters," He continued, "I might be on business," which was code for Order of the Phoenix Stuff.

Stefan nodded again along with Elena; Damon Disapparated with a sharp crack, which drew the attention of a few other various witches and wizards in the admittedly small crowds that year. First Years' eyes were big with more fear than usual; many Second Years looked to have been pulled from Hogwarts; and the rest of the students had a wary air about them as their fingers stiffly tightened around the handles of their wands and eyes were narrowed with suspicion.

"Let's get on the train," Elena said quietly, stooping to pick up her trunk as she nudged Stefan with an elbow. Her boyfriend obliged and together they climbed onto the Hogwarts Express to go to their last school year.

The normal compartments were gone; in their places were simple tables with four chairs gathered around them. Students still sat in with their year mates, and the Houses were easily distinguished among them.

The Hufflepuffs were sitting with their friends, packed together and firm. If they were afraid of the year ahead of them, it did not show in their stiff backs or clear expressions; the Ravenclaws as usual had their books and papers about, studying already for their school year, but they held a more frantic pace this year and their eyes were wary and jaded; the Gryffindors were all about a stiff upper lip, refusing to let anyone see any fear in them.

Most of the Slytherins were at ease, some smirking slyly with unveiled pleasure; finally their Head of House was Headmaster. But there were a few who were distanced from those and they appeared to be ostracized from the main group.

"Stefan. Elena," A quiet and firm voice called the couple over to Neville's table on the train. The boy was tall and strong this year and Stefan sensed an unflappable air about his friend that was new. Trevor the Toad was sitting still for once, seemingly gazing out at the other students imperiously. Lexi's missing presence at his side was painfully noticeable.

"Hey," Stefan greeted warmly and he Neville embraced for a moment before sitting down.

"You guys know Ginny," Neville said lowly, "And Luna."

Stefan and Elena saw the other two girls; Ginny sitting proud and firm, her mouth set firmly and her ginger hair flyaway with the cooling charms set upon the train for being late summer. It dawned on Stefan that Ginny had been going out with Harry for most of the last year, but if she was upset about his disappearance, she didn't let on. Luna wore a dazed smile as per usual, but the hand that clutched her copy of the Quibbler was shaking fractionally

"Hi," Elena greeted them quietly.

Ginny nodded stiffly and Luna gave them a whimsical smile.

"Hello," Luna said vacantly, "How was your summer?"

Stefan and Elena exchanged glances and they each flushed. "Good," Stefan answered, clearing his throat.

"It was clearly more than good, but you're also very embarrassed to talk about what you did in company," Luna observed sagely, "That's alright."

The first leg of the train ride wasn't as bad as it could have been, and Stefan, Elena and Neville carefully said nothing about their missing friend, Lexi. Bonnie appeared to be gone as well, and half way through the ride Stefan spotted Caroline sitting stiffly next to their fellow year mate, Tyler Lockwood.

Stefan narrowed his eyes; his friend looked very uncomfortable in the seat next to the Slytherin she'd have killed for just the previous year. Something dark purple was just visible over the top of the girl's turtle neck.

"Is it just me, or is Caroline looking . . . wilted?" Elena whispered into Stefan's ear quietly, her breath tickling his neck.

"It's not just you," Stefan confirmed, licking his lips, "I wonder what's going on."

"We'll have to catch a minute alone with her –" Elena didn't get to finish because the train suddenly shuddered to a stop. Students panicked and sprinted to the windows, but the only one who looked in their little group was Ginny, who calmly stood and peered out the sidecar.

"Definitely not at Hogwarts," Ginny said as the door to their section of the train burst open. Around them, children shrieked and started to cry as what was clearly a Death Eater stalked in through the train's aisles. His black cloak swirled around his ankles and he hadn't even bothered with the popular skull mask. The Death Eater's face was pulled down into a ferocious scowl as he grey eyes danced around the train section, searching for what were most likely Harry and his two best friends.

Neville stood boldly and Stefan couldn't help the stab of fear that pierced his heart for his best friend. "He's not here, losers," Neville said neither menacingly or loud, but clearly and firm.

The Death Eater gave Neville a once over before letting his eyes sweep the train once more. Then he left as quickly as he'd come, though the students were jumpy and scared for the rest of the ride to their previously safe school.

"I have a horrible feeling about this year," Stefan felt compelled to state the obvious and Elena stood closer to him as they stepped off the train and walked towards one of the carriages. Neville was on Stefan's right, Ginny on Neville's, and Luna seemed to flutter around, never content in a single place for longer than a few seconds.

They got onto a carriage together and Stefan found himself looking for their other friends; Caroline was still stuck to Tyler's side, who was with Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy as per usual. Bonnie was nowhere to be seen at first glance, but then Stefan spotted her with a Sixth Year Ravenclaw, Luka something. He was half-blood, and appeared to be very close to their nearly psychic friend.

"You think she'll be okay?" Elena asked worriedly.

"Probably," Stefan said, but he wouldn't be satisfied until Bonnie told them she was safe in the other wizard's company; one couldn't be too careful anymore.

The entire student body was required to file quickly and silently into the Great Hall, in what nearly seemed to be marching in tandem. The four student tables were the same as they always were, but it seemed like the faculty table stood even higher this year, distancing the students from their professors. The grand podium with the magical phoenix stationed on front was missing, making the room feel even more cavernous and echoing and the shadows long and frightening.

The Great Hall's ceiling reflected the students' somber mood; dark with flashing lightening and rumbling with rolling thunder. Elena's hand found Stefan's and squeezed as they followed Neville over to the Gryffindor table and procured themselves some seats. Luna bid them a farewell and disappeared over to the Ravenclaws; leaving Ginny to sit on Neville's other side that was usually reserved for Lexi.

Everyone else found their seats quiet as mice as Snape rose up to where Dumbledore stood only last year, his black robes swirling around him like wings of a looming, forbidding bat.

"Batman," Stefan muttered to himself darkly, "How the mighty have fallen." Elena gave him a quizzical look, but one of the muggleborn students a year below them shot Stefan a small smirk in appreciation.

"If you are all finished . . . nattering on to each other," Snape's acidic voice drawled from the front room. All eyes snapped up to Snape's sallow face as he drawled out the beginning of the year speech without first sorting the new children.

"The Dark Arts professor this year will be Amycus Carrow," Snape waved a hand to a man in dark ropes with a vicious smirk sitting to the left of where McGonagall was sitting, "The Muggle Studies' professor is his sister, Alecto. Both of these courses . . . are mandatory." Alecto, in equally dark robes sat on Amycus' other side. They resembled each other, Stefan thought, far more than he and Damon did to one another. Both siblings are hair blacker that pitch and severe faces; their cheek bones were angular and their noses were straight. They could have been attractive, except for their black eyes and the unnerving air that surrounded them.

Everyone was relieved when Snape finished his speech and stepped down for McGonagall to bring forth Sorting Hat. Stefan and Elena held hands under the table as the Sorting progressed; the Ravenclaws got eight students in all; Hufflepuffs ten; Gryffindors seven; and Slytherin twelve. When McGonagall put the Sorting Hat up along with its stool, she stiffly made her way back to her seat between Amycus and what would be Snape once he sat down.

The new Headmaster reclaimed his spot at the head of the Great Hall. He didn't need to command silence; the students fell quiet the moment the wizard stood.

"I want to make it perfectly clear that absolutely . . . no . . . misbehavior will be tolerated this school . . . year," Snape drawled, his lip curling up into a sneer, "Am I clear?"

You could hear a pin drop in the Great Hall for all the students responded.

"I said," Snape said with narrowing eyes, "'Am . . . I . . . clear?'"

"Yes," Several students called out.

"'Yes, Sir,'" Snape snapped.

"Yes, Sir," The students corrected themselves as a crack of lightening streaked across the sky. The Great Hall ceiling appeared to be mirroring the general air in its walls, as it reflected the frightened and tension filled air about the students and a few of the professors.

"Good," Snape drawled, "If you are not . . . there will be . . . severe . . . consequences."

The food appeared on the tables then, and after a few hesitant seconds, everyone dived in, eating with a startling vigor. Stefan kept one eye on the professors' table, watching the Carrows interact with their faculty members. No one liked them and even Snape, it appeared, barely seemed to tolerate the Death Eaters' presence.

Elena and Stefan exchanged glances, but said nothing as they finished eating. The year's Prefects led the First Years up to their dorms, and silently unanimous, Neville, Stefan and Elena agreed they'd wait until the next day to try and meet up to discuss their action plan for the school year. Elena disappeared up to the Seventh Year Gryffindor girls' dorms with Lavender Brown, and Neville and Stefan quickly trooped up the boys' dorm steps.

Inside, Dean Thomas was gone, leaving only Seamus, Neville and Stefan as the only Gryffindor Seventh Year boys' left in the entire school. Seamus inclined his head to them, which the two best friends returned curtly.

"How was your summer, Seamus?" Neville inquired quietly as they all tried to ignore the empty beds and unpack their belongings.

The Irish boy shrugged, his face pulled into a tight frown. "Not great, I'll you. Me mum almost didn't let me come back. Not that anyone could blame her." His Irish brogue was rough as he spoke to them. "Some of the family tried to Portkey in from Ireland, but they couldn't get through 'cause of the new Minister for Magic."

"I'm sorry," Stefan offered quietly, "I know that family's really important right now."

Seamus nodded, but waved them off. "I think I'm going to go on to bed, mates." He crawled into his bunk and his curtains twitched closed, thankfully without any smoke this time. (In their Sixth Year, he'd attempted something much the same, only to have his curtains catch fire and the boys had to evacuate their dorm, to the giggling girls' hilarity.)

* * *

Morning came soon enough and Neville and Stefan went down their steps to find a somber Common Room and Elena. Stefan paused and marveled at the beauty that was his girlfriend; her smile lit up the room, her flushed cheeks were bright pink, and her eyes and smile were bright.

Neville caught him looking and gave him a small grin, but it wasn't forced like Stefan might have thought. Neville may have missed Lexi, but he wasn't about to let his own feelings cloud his mind about his friends present. Stefan clapped a hand on his back and they walked over to Elena and they stepped through the portrait hole, heading towards the Great Hall.

"Well, well, well, isn't it the new Golden Trio. Where's your little Mudblood friend, Alexandra, was it?" Stefan's nostrils flared as he looked at Theodore Nott, a Slytherin Seventh Year. Throughout their years in Hogwarts together, Nott had always been weedy and stringy; he was a tall youth with short dark hair that stuck up about his head, reminiscent of Harry's, really. He was pale, not as much so as Draco Malfoy, but he wasn't what one would call bronze. His angular face was most likely considered attractive by the females of his house and his dark eyes were leering with menace as they traveled over the small group of friends.

The boy would usually keep to himself, being sharp and clever and a deft hand at Potions. His father was a Death Eater though, and as Stefan's intelligent green eyes darted to the small patch of exposed skin on Nott's wrist, saw the start of the familiar inky black Death Eater tattoo. Nott's eyes shot to his wrist and then back to Stefan's face and he grinned a little.

"Does that scare you, Salvatore? It shouldn't; I heard that your brother was on his way to getting one of his own," Nott drawled, lip curling to show his pearly white teeth in a savage smile.

Elena's hand gripped Stefan's tightly.

"Doesn't scare me," Stefan said quietly, "It makes me sick though, to see another person succumb to Voldemort's cowardly ways."

"And don't insult Damon," Elena hissed, "He would never join Voldemort."

Nott arched one eyebrow imperiously, "What? Like your family would never? I heard about your desertion of your family – everyone did. It's been the biggest scandal since Sirius Black was disowned." He leant in close and whispered in her face so that only Elena could hear him, "There's also been talk that you've been shacking up with the Salvatore brothers. Tell me – which one is the better shag? Or do you all three get together-"

The sound of Elena's palm slapping off of Theodore Nott's left cheek echoed in the cavernous hallway. He reeled back, touching his cheek with his fingers, probing the bright red area with shock. The rest of his face started to flush with anger and the trio of Gryffindors quickly ran off, shooting wary looks behind them, but Nott did nothing but stand there.

Stefan didn't like the look on the Pureblood's face.

They made it the Great Hall where they quickly sat down and retrieved their updated schedules. Tightly, Stefan said, "That was stupid, Elena. Did you see him? He's going to get you back for that somehow."

"I really don't care," Elena said angrily as she attacked her toast with a butter knife.

"What did he say to you?" Neville asked warily.

"Nothing," Elena growled.

"He obviously said something," Stefan said shortly.

Elena slammed down her knife and turned to face Stefan fiercely. The noise made the spattering of senseless conversations halt for a moment that soon resumed at all but the Gryffindor table. "He insinuated that I was sleeping with you and Damon," Elena said quietly and her usually kind eyes flashed with indignation at the memory.

The glasses at their table started to tremble and the other Gryffindors turned back to look at them, surprise on their faces; accidental magic was practically unheard of once a witch or wizard started Hogwarts. Stefan's eyes shuddered in anger and he stood, swinging his legs over the table. Neville's hand shot out though, freezing the other boy and he squeezed Stefan's forearm almost painfully.

"Let go of me," Stefan said forcefully, "Neville, let go of my arm."

"No," Neville said evenly, "Listen, mate; you'd never forgive me if I let you go right now. Look at the Professors; they're all watching, waiting for you, any of us, to slip up."

Even as Neville was speaking, Stefan could tell that he was right; the looks were varied from worried (McGonagall) to downright gleeful at an opportunity to discipline their first student (the Carrow's). Stefan stiffly sat back down and looked furiously at the wood on the table, Neville's strong hand still on his arm.

"Alright, then?" Neville asked quietly.

"No, but I'm not going to fly off the handle," Stefan muttered, "Promise."

Neville let go and everything in the Hall resumed stutteringly until they were dismissed for their first class. They walked to DADA together, which they unfortunately had with the Slytherins.

"Why is it that we have classes with our rivals? Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs get on fine, sure, but Hufflepuffs get on with everyone. Stick them with the Slytherins." It was spiteful, but Elena was sore from her encounter with Nott that morning.

Neville was quick to disabuse any thoughts about that, though. "Hufflepuffs may turn the other cheek, Elena, but they don't let people walk over them; I'm not sure that they would get on with them as well as you think."

"Well, then perhaps the Ravenclaws would like to be with the Slytherins, then," Elena muttered.

"I'd like to see Bonnie hex Malfoy," Stefan grinned and the a little air of levity was reintroduced to the small group of friends at the thought. Bonnie was a fantastic witch, one of the best in their group of friends, really, and she was quick with defensive spells and divination magic.

They arrived at the class and Elena, who usually sat with Lexi, went to sit with Ginny that day instead, hopefully to get to know the only Weasley left in Hogwarts a little better. Neville and Stefan scooted into the row just behind the girls and watched as the rest of their House and the Slytherins filed in in the aptly dark classroom.

Amycus Carrow, the brother of the Death Eater duo, swept into the classroom, but it must be known that it was nowhere near as impressive as Snape's notorious entrances. He was pale and his eyes were a slightly mad looking black while his hair matched and his angular face was almost sharp because of his pointed cheek bones. He looked down his nose at them at another poor imitation of Snape and curled his lip.

"This is the Dark Arts and you'll have it every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning with me. You'll address me as Professor Carrow or Sir. Do I make myself clear, children?" His eyes swept the classroom as the Gryffindors listlessly nodded and most of the Slytherins enthusiastically replied with the affirmative. Tracey Davis was noticeably one of the ones that were less than keen on the whole.

"Today, class, it has come to my attention that there's been bullying in the halls. Theo Nott," Carrow inclined his head towards the wild haired student, who nodded with a clearly affected frown, "was unfairly assaulted in the hallway by Elena Petrova. Petrova – come to the front."

A sick feeling a dread pooled into Stefan's stomach that he saw mirrored on Elena's horrified face. The unfairness of the situation weighed on Stefan's heart as Elena pushed back her fear and strode to the front of the classroom with an indifferent look in her eyes.

"Now, now, Miss Petrova," Carrow's smile was oily, "Tell me; did you and did you not smack Mister Nott across the face in the hallway this morning?" Stefan stiffened and Neville put a restraining hand on his leg.

"Yes, but-" Elena started.

"So you admit to assaulting a fellow student?" Carrow latched on.

"Yes, but you don't understand-"

"But you still did it, Miss Petrova, and unprovoked to boot," Carrow bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile.

Elena's nostrils flared, "No," She said stiffly, "I was not unprovoked."

"Well, what did Mister Nott do to you? I don't see any marks."

Elena crossed her arms across her chest and said firmly, "He said something about me that was a nasty, horrible rumor."

"Well? Let's hear it, Miss Petrova."

"He insinuated that I was sleeping with both of the Salvatore brothers. At the same time."

Whistles and hoots of the Slytherins' side of the classroom almost drowned out the sound of righteous hisses of indignation of Elena's fellow Gryffindors. Stefan's grip on his quill was so hard that it snapped in half.

Carrow's face was all bared teeth, "I'm not hearing the lie, Miss Petrova."

Stefan stood abruptly, fuming.

"Do you have something to say, Mister Salvatore?" Carrow asked with narrowed eyes.

Neville and Elena shot half pleading looks at Stefan to let it go, but Stefan stood, shaking with silent anger.

"Well? If not, sit yourself down," Carrow said and Stefan slowly returned to his seat. "Now that that's out in the open, it's time to doll out punishments." Carrow turned to Elena sharply and said in a low voice that carried across the classroom, "Bullying of other students will not be tolerated and you're going to be first example to be made of, Miss Petrova."

He went to his desk and handed Elena a familiar looking quill – a blood quill. Apparently, Elena recognized it as well.

"You're going to write lines."

"I'm not using that," Elena said firmly.

"You are unless you want to practice your Cruciatus Curse on a fellow student. Your boyfriend, maybe?" He smiled.

Shaken, Elena took the quill.

"Now, return to your seat and write, _I will not be a bully._ Keep writing until the class has been dismissed."

* * *

As soon as Dark Arts was over, Stefan and Neville rushed to Elena's side and they walked with her out of the classroom, dodging the other students. Doubtless, word of the goings-on would spread like wildfire on a patch of dry grass and the entire school would know by lunch.

Elena's hand was bleeding profusely, but the witch refused to cry which Stefan admired, but hoped that she wasn't just bottling up her emotions. Her wrist was cradled in to her chest, and Stefan had a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"I'm going to cover for you in Transfiguration so Professor McGonagall won't worry," Neville said quietly and quickly and Stefan nodded curtly.

"Thanks."

"Not a problem, mate," Neville grinned grimly, "You're my best friend."

They split ways and the couple headed towards the Room of Requirement, which they entered swiftly. There was everything they needed at a basin that had formed on one wall and Stefan and Elena hurried over to it.

Stefan's own hand itched just looking at Elena's _I will not be a bully_ and thought of his own - _I must not commit violence_ and winced.

"I'm fine," Elena murmured to Stefan, seemingly reading her mind, "Really. It's takes a little more than a blood quill to shake me up."

"What he said in there about you," Stefan muttered, "Forget it, okay?"

"He's just picking on me because I left my family," Elena said quietly, "It's been in the Prophet that I've been disowned all summer; of course all of the Death Eaters are going to be extra harsh. They hate bloodtraitors almost as much as they hate muggle-borns."

"It's not right," Stefan almost snapped as he cleaned Elena's wound, "They shouldn't say those things about you."

"They shouldn't be killing muggle-borns either," Elena said dryly as Stefan wrapped a bandage around her hand. They sighed together and Stefan's eyes wandered the room.

"Should we get the basilisk fang before or after we get the diadem?" He asked quietly.

"The diadem can talk to you; who knows what else it can do," Elena warned, "And it's going to be indefinitely more difficult to get to the Chamber of Secrets unnoticed than it will be to get in here again to find the diadem."

"Fang first it is then," Stefan murmured and he and Elena clasped hands, walking out of the Room of Requirement swiftly. The bell rang, indicating lunch, and so the couple detoured down to the Great Hall.

When they stepped through the doors, Stefan saw students shoot them glances that ranged from disgust to pity and heard the furious whispering that followed them to their seats. Fellow Gryffindors were defending their honor, but the snakes were just slyly smirking in their pit.

Neville found them a moment later and gave them a tight grin. "Talk's started already."

Elena snorted. "It started seconds after it happened, Neville. It'll pass; I'm sure something even more scandalous will happen in the next class."

"Even more scandalous that a Salvatore and Petrova threesome?" Neville asked grimly and Stefan choked. Neville nodded, "That's the story going around, along with Elena cheating on you with Damon, and you cheating on Elena with Katherine."

Elena and Stefan gaped, horrified at Neville.

"You're serious?" Stefan asked, eyes wide.

"Deadly," Neville nodded, "Theodore Nott has been fanning the flames all morning; it's disgusting."

Bonnie detoured over to the Gryffindor table with her Ravenclaw friend half a step behind her. "Elena," She greeted warmly, "I'm sorry about all these rumors right on top of your family drama. How are you holding up?"

The Gryffindor and the Ravenclaw chattered for a moment before Bonnie and Luka quickly went to their table. Stefan looked up and saw why; Snape was practically floating to the front of the Great Hall. The students were hushed immediately.

"It has come to my attention . . . that some students have not been sitting with their own Houses at lunch . . . such acts are . . . forbidden," He drawled and Stefan wished that the man would trip in his overly large cloak. "Is that perfectly . . . clear?"

The students nodded and murmured in tandem, "Yes Sir."

Snape swept back to Professors' table and Stefan noticed McGonagall's face scrunched up in distaste. Once the students were dismissed, everyone scurried back to their Common Rooms.

Stefan, Elena, Neville and Ginny gathered around the fire silently fuming.

"This isn't going to stand," Stefan muttered.

"What? Not sitting with your Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff buddies at lunch?" Ginny drawled, her tone indicating her annoyance, but her eyes glinted.

"No," Stefan snapped, "The unfairness of this situation. It's the first day of classes and they've already used the blood quill on Elena; he had to either do that or use the Cruciatus Curse on one of us during class."

"They humiliated me and Stefan," Elena said loudly, turning heads in their direction, "And it won't stop there. What if next time there isn't a choice and they make some poor student actually perform the Torture Curse on another student? Where does it end?"

"What do you propose we do?" Seamus called from across the room. He walked over to their group and looked at them with narrowed eyes, "What can we do? It's obvious that we're on short leashes this year. Anyone can see it."

"I think which should start up Dumbledore's Army again," Neville replied quietly and there was sudden silence that announced the rest of the House was listening.

"Say again?" Seamus demanded.

"He's right," Stefan said, backing up his friend, "We all still have those coins, right? I can re-charm them; I know the spell Hermione used to do it in Fifth Year. We can meet up in the Room again and practice Defense."

You could have heard a pen drop in the Common Room.

Then it burst into a sea of noise.

"Quiet," Ginny hollered, "Or else you'll attract Snape's attention and we're all dead!" The Gryffindors were immediately silenced. "Thanks," Ginny grinned and turned to the leading trio, "Continue, please."

"Thanks Ginny," Neville smiled.

"Not a problem, Captain Longbottom," Ginny smirked, making Neville blush.

"I can re-charm the coins," Stefan repeated, "and-"

"Wait," Elena said swiftly, putting a hand on Stefan's mouth. She stood, "If we're doing this, we're signing something right now that says no one can talk about this. We'll _not_ be betrayed again."

There were quiet mutterings until Lavender Brown asked, "What if we don't want to join?"

"You'll still sign so you can't tattle," Ginny snapped, "You don't have to participate, but already too much has been said to let anyone out of this Common Room tonight. This is war, ladies and gents; no chances can be taken."

There were no more complaints, and together, Neville, Stefan, Elena, and Ginny wrote up a piece of paper and charmed it quietly.

"Ready," Elena announced and set the paper onto a table, "Everyone needs to sign, even if you don't wait to rejoin the DA." Elena signed first, followed by their little group of friends. Seamus came up next, followed by a Patil twin and then the rest of the remaining Seventh Year girls. Slowly the rest of the Gryffindors trickled up and signed the parchment.

Night was encroaching on them, and the First through Third Years (who were definitely not going to be in the DA, if Stefan had any say about it) went up to bed, leaving the older ones in the Common Room.

"Now," Elena announced, "Let's discuss what we're going to do and how we're going to recruit from the other Houses."


	2. i've got soul, but i'm not a soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All I know is that first, you've got to get mad.
> 
> "You've gotta say, 'I'm a human being, Goddammit! My life has value!'
> 
> "So, I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window, open it, and stick your head out and yell,
> 
> 'I'm as mad as hell,
> 
> And I'm not going to take this anymore!'"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or Harry Potter or any quotations. The quote in this is in fact part of the "Mad as Hell" speech made by Howard Beale. I thought this part was fitting and recommend anyone/everyone else to check out the entire speech: here's a link to a Disney/Non vid of it www. youtube watch?v=kf45hZ7dcag&list=FLkdrGGb-ksDpy1_1MSOXdqw It's really, really good.
> 
> Sorry this is so late!

Damon floo'd in to the Ministry via toilet (and that continued to be one of the nastiest experiences the wizard had ever had) and swept to his office in a swirl of robes that would have made even Severus Snape proud. Though the older wizard was "Dark", Damon supposed he shouldn't want to make the man proud, but Damon wasn't so sure that his (Snape's, that is) loyalties were exactly so . . . obvious. Snape was a Slytherin through and through; Damon had very little doubt that a soul in the world knew precisely what went on in his head. Anymore that is, considering Dumbledore's untimely death (murder, Damon's mind supplied, but he felt there was something more to _that_ as well. The Hat had considered him for more than just Slytherin and Gryffindor, of course. Ravenclaw had been reflected upon for the briefest of seconds too before ultimately being discarded.)

Damon walked through the cavernous Atrium and his eyes became accustomed to its darkness. He passed the colossal statue of black stone that dominated the scene; an immense sculpture of a witch and wizard sat on what looked to be lavishly carved thrones (but were really hundreds upon hundreds of mounds of carved deformed muggles) looking down at the Ministry workers toppling out of fireplaces below them. Engraved in foot-high letters at the base of the statue were the words MAGIC IS MIGHT. Around the Atrium, notices were posted about Muggleborn Registration and the consequences if one did not register themselves. Damon's lip curled at the Ministry, the place he wanted to make a difference in.

Across the Atrium, Damon saw a flash of hair and turned to see Albert Runcorn, Mafalda Hopkirk, and Reg Cattermole. He frowned; those three most certainly did not run in the same social circles, and yet they were huddled together like good friends, whispering and staring at the same sculpture that Damon had been brooding over not five minutes ago.

Hopkirk caught sight of Damon's arched brows and she quickly ducked her head down and whispered something furiously to her comrades. Reg's curious eyes peeped a glance at him, and Damon's eyes narrowed, but as he started towards them, the group had started away towards the lift.

Curiosity burning, Damon weighed the consequences of following the group against going to his uncomfortable desk chair next to Alaric's equally cramped position.

It didn't take much thought; Damon made sure his wand was tucked into its holster and started after the trio of curious-acting people.

.

.

.

Alaric Saltzman prided himself on being a good, sensible, hard-working Hufflepuff. He was patient and listened to Damon's lewd jokes about his former house ("You know that I heard that Hufflepuffs are actually sexual dynamos; what do you say to _that_ , Rick?" "Hufflepuffs are particularly good _finders_ " "Three girls, a Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw, and a Slytherin are all first years- which is the sexiest? The answer - the Hufflepuff, because she's seventeen") with if not good humor, at least a closed mouth and few heaving sighs. Really, he put up with a lot of shit from Damon Salvatore if he thought about it, so it shouldn't have surprised him that Damon would pull something so outlandish, despite having been warned not even a month ago to keep his head down.

It started that morning.

Alaric had arrived to the Auror Division's offices on time, as per usual, and Damon hadn't been there (as per usual) and he had set to work after a brief once over of the Prophet. But as time had ticked on by without a single trace of Damon, Rick grew progressively worried about his friend and Auror partner.

Then he heard the commotion in the hallway.

.

.

.

Damon followed the three into the lift to their clear discomfort and as the doors were about to shut, the bastard Yaxley had strode over and stopped the lift with a large hand. His pale face was drawn down into a fierce scowl and his hair had been pulled back into a low ponytail, lying flat.

"Cattermole!" He growled lowly and Damon's eyes danced to the Death Eater's face.

"Morning Yaxley," Damon said and smirked when the wizard ignored him. "How's the family?"

"Keep quiet, Salvatore, if you don't want your lips sewn shut," Yaxley snapped and focused on Reg again. "I requested somebody from Magical Maintenance to sort out my office, Cattermole. It's still raining."

"Have you tried an umbrella?" Damon suggested on Reg's behalf, "Maybe dug some trenches? A moat? Bought a boat? Row boats are particularly cheap this time of year, I've read."

Yaxley breathed sharply through his nose and shot a _silencio_ at Damon, but the younger wizard ducked it with a grin. "Do you realize that I am on my way to interrogate your wife, Cattermole? In fact, I'm quite surprised you're not down there holding her hand while she waits. Already given her up as a bad job, have you? Probably wise. Be sure and marry a pureblood next time."

Damon became still and he watched as Reg's face drained of blood, becoming as pale as ghost, while Hopkirk let out a tiny squeak of terror, her eyes rounding. Yaxley turned an arched brow in her direction, making her flush, coughing a little and she turned away.

"I – I –" Reg couldn't form a sentence in response, so Yaxley barreled on, a small smirk settling on his face.

"If _my_ wife was accused of being a Mudblood, not that any woman I married would ever be mistaken for such filth, and the Head of the Department of Magic Law Enforcement needed a job doing, I would make it my priority to do that job, Cattermole. Do you understand me?"

Damon wondered when the Head of Magic Law Enforcement had changed.

"Yes," Reg whispered in a deathly quiet voice, "Yes, I understand."

Yaxley said some other nonsense before nodding to Runcorn, who looked surprised at the movement, and then he turned to Damon. "Salvatore. Be in the office in two minutes or your place here at the Ministry of Magic will be questioned." He gave Damon a nasty grin. "If such a thing were to happen, I'd hate to have to remind Umbridge that your blood status hasn't been confirmed yet."

Damon's hand curled into fists. "Of course, Yaxley. See you in the office." The Death Eater swirled away and the golden gate closed on the four of them and the lift started.

The trio started to furiously whisper behind Damon's back.

"I know that you three aren't what you seem," Damon drawled with his eyes facing forwards and the whispering fell flat. Bingo.

"Wha-what do you mean?" Runcorn stuttered.

"Just that the Albert Runcorn I know would be caught dead fraternizing with Reg Cattermole, let along touch him with a ten foot pole. And trust me, I know Albert Runcorn. I also know that he and Mafalda Hopkirk aren't the best of friends either, and to my knowledge, Hopkirk is due to be in a trial with Umbridge . . . five minutes ago." His grin was more of baring teeth than anything happy.

Hopkirk, or whoever was masquerading as her, gasped. "Umbridge? Trial?"

"Reg's wife's trial, actually," Damon's eyes danced.

"Oh no!" Hopkirk gasped.

"Hermi-" Runcorn stomped onto Reg's foot and Damon grinned.

"So, it's the Golden Trio," Damon said, "What are you doing in the Ministry? Your heads are wanted on a silver platter, you know. If you're caught, you'll be publically humiliated followed by a quick sentence that will either involve Dementors or a guillotine." He wiggled his brows. "Neither of those particularly pleasant to me."

"I don't right know what you're talking about," Hopkirk said crossly and her arms folded across her chest, while Runcorn and Cattermole shuffled uneasily on their feet.

Damon rolled his eyes. "You're the Granger girl – Hermione; your pal masquerading as Reginald Cattermole gave you away. Potter and the youngest Weasley boy will be with you; guessing that Potter's Runcorn and Weasley's Cattermole. So. What _are you_ doing in the _Ministry_?"

The three exchanged frightened looks before huddling up, conferencing for a moment. A moment later, Runcorn cleared his throat, "We're looking for Umbridge. We've got to get something from her."

"Which is . . . ?"

"A secret," Reg said firmly.

Damon narrowed his eyes, but nodded. "How can I help?"

They three exchanged another round of looks, before Granger said, "Well, I think we might need a distraction in a bit . . ."

.

.

.

Alaric stepped fully out of the Auror offices, along with a few other curious faces, such as the young witch Nymphadora Lupin nee Tonks. The fellow former Hufflepuff's hair was bubblegum pink that day, and he was pretty sure the short witch was pregnant.

"'lo, Alaric," She murmured, "You know what's goin' on?"

"I have an idea," Alaric muttered as quietly, "unfortunately. Shall we?" The witch and wizard walked out of their hallway and head towards the commotion – the Atrium. Wizards and witches were streaming around and the No. 1 enemy posters were swirling around, propelled by the magic in the air. In the center of the mayhem was the giant, horrendous sculpture. Or rather, Alaric should have said, the remnants of it.

It was a smoldering heap of ash now, with Damon Salvatore running circles around it while dodging spell after spell being shot at him. He had wicked grin on his face and his hair was windswept mess, his cheeks pink and eyes sparkling. There was a dragon made entirely of sparkling red and orange lights sweeping the Atrium, blowing sparks at anyone and everyone.

"Did he just . . . ?" Tonks' voice was as shocked and awed as a First Year's on seeing the Great Hall for the first time in their lives, just before their sorting.

" . . . I'm afraid it looks like Damon has destroyed the pureblood's precious sculpture and is wreaking havoc."

" . . . Want to join him?" Tonks blinked large eyes at Rick, lashes fluttering.

Alaric sighed and rolled up his sleeves as Damon tucked and rolled to avoid the blood red light indicating a Cruciatus Curse. A flash of an alarming shade of green missed him by a hair.

"Looks like we'll have to if we want to save his life." As the two Aurors dived into the fray, it escaped their attention that three Hogwarts aged witch and wizards were escaping through the floo system, their robes much too large on them and one of the children being soaked to the bone with water.

* * *

Stefan made it to the Great Hall for breakfast to hear the sound of furious whispers of his fellow student; lips were hidden behind hands, eyes darted to his face and their personal copies of the Prophet but Stefan didn't know what they were about until Neville man handled him into a seat and shoved his own subscription of the Prophet into Stefan's lap.

**HARRY POTTER SPOTTED!**

**DAMON SALVATORE: TRAITOR OF THE MINISTRY**

Stefan blinked the sudden dizziness from his vision and knew that if he hadn't already been sitting down on the bench at Gryffindor table, he'd have fallen to his knees in shock. He lifted his eyes and met Neville's sympathetic gaze while Elena's hand snaked over, twining her fingers with Stefan's. He looked back down at the article, hand trembling.

_Yesterday morning, Harry J. Potter (Half-blood and Undesirable No.1) and his two accomplices, Ronald B. Weasley (Pureblood) and Hermione J. Granger (Muggleborn) were found perpetrating the Ministry of Magic for unknown nefarious purposes._

Stefan skimmed the article until he found Damon's name.

_Auror Damon Salvatore has been found guilty on the account of treason, for helping known enemy No.1 Harry J. Potter and his coconspirators. Also found guilty are Salvatore's fellow coworkers, Auror Alaric Saltzman and Auror Nymphadora Lupin nee Tonks. The trio of law enforcement officers assisted in abetting Potter, Weasley, and Granger's escape from the Ministry, causing numerous charges of property damage as well as injuries on Ministry personnel. Remus J. Lupin, husband of Nymphadora Lupin nee Tonks has been called in for questioning, but disappeared shortly after the crime in question._

The article continued on about their "treasonous" acts until –

_If any information is known about their possible whereabouts, come forwards immediately to the Ministry and your troubles will be appropriately compensated._

Stefan slowly lowered the article to the table and felt the weight of a hundred pairs of eyes resting on him. Several thoughts ran through his head and conflicting feelings raged beneath his skin; as angry as Stefan was for his brother endangering his life, Stefan couldn't help but be proud that Damon had helped Harry, Ron, and Hermione in their quest given to them from Dumbledore.

"What I want to know is," Seamus leant in close, "was why the three o' them were in the Ministry to start with. What's there?" His eyes narrowed.

Stefan and Neville exchanged looks; if the trio was hunting for Horcruxes and they were in the Ministry, they'd obviously found one hidden. But why hide a Horcrux in the Ministry and where would one even go about concealing something there?

He'd talk about it with Neville and Elena before their DA meeting that evening, Stefan thought, and focused down at his food, picking up a fork.

"I'm not sure," Elena finally answered Seamus and she shrugged half-heartedly. "I'm sure it was important either way though." The Irish wizard muttered something under his breath in response, but went back to working his way through his breakfast silently.

Stefan, Elena and Neville finished their food and quickly scurried out of the Great Hall for their only free period of the day. Later, they would have Muggle Studies and Transfiguration, followed by their elective course.

"What thing do you think they got at the Ministry?" Elena murmured quietly as they sped to the library.

"If it's along the lines as the Ravenclaw's diadem," Stefan mused just as quietly, "It would be something else of the Founder's. What else is there?"

"Gryffindor's sword and Hufflepuff's cup," Neville whispered to them, "You-Know-Who couldn't have possibly done anything to the sword, though, because it only appears to a true Gryffindor."

"There's Slytherin's locket," Elena offered.

"How do you know that?" Stefan wondered quietly as they turned a corner and his hand found Elena's again.

"I'm surprised you didn't know," Elena told him honestly, "since you're a half-blood. Most people native to the wizarding world except for Muggleborns knows about the Founder's personal items."

"Hermione probably knew in First Year," Neville said with a smile and grins lit up Stefan and Elena's faces.

"So, your brother's a traitor now, is he? What about you, Salvatore? Are you a spy for that Order of Dumbledore's? You tell big brother what happens at school?"

"I'm sure that everyone writes to their families about what happens at school, Nott," Stefan snapped irritably.

Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini appeared in front of the trio, the former with a wide smirk. Stefan, Elena and Neville unconsciously pulled together in a sharp triangle formation, wands loose in their right hands with Stefan at point.

"What do you want, Nott?" Elena asked in a tightly controlled voice.

The wizard's lip curled but his companion remained aloof and bored looking. "Just wanted to make sure that wittle bitty Stefan wasn't going to go cry, now that his brother's in danger of being caught by the Snatchers. You want to know what they do to people they snatch up, Salvatore? I'll tell you that it certainly isn't pleasant."

"And how would you know?" Neville asked and his voice firm and unthreatening.

"Did your Death Eater dad tell you that?" Elena snapped at him at the same time.

"What is going on here, ladies and gentlemen?"

The five students looked up and to the relief of the Gryffindors; it was McGonagall sweeping towards them with her customary stern look as opposed to Snape or one of the Carrow's. Her hair was swept up in its customary tight bun and her glasses were perched on her nose; her eyes looked down through them at the five students clustered in the hallway.

"Well?" She arched a pencil thin grey eyebrow.

"Nothing, Professor," Stefan finally said and he broke eye contact with Theo Nott, "We were just heading to class."

"Then I suggest you get to it, lady and gentlemen," The look McGonagall shot them all told said that she knew they were lying but she wouldn't push it. "Hurry, if you don't want to be late." The older witch watched as the Gryffindors and Slytherins scurried away to Muggle Studies.

They were among the last to arrive, settling into their assigned seats. Alecto Carrow had organized all of the students into their seats by their blood status; Purebloods sat up front, where they had a clear view of all of her lessons; Halfbloods sat in the middle; and Muggleborns were forced to sit in the back where it would be difficult for them to watch their professor (not that many minded, of course).

Stefan sat just behind the table that held Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Crabbe. He glanced a little mournfully where Neville and Elena sat together with Nott. At his own table were Seamus and Millicent Bulstrode to the left of him, both of whom were glaring daggers at each other.

"Wake up," Alecto Carrow snapped and the few people who dared to sleep in her class shot up, wild eyed and terrified of repercussions. The witch glared at them with narrowed black eyes. Her wand was held loosely in her left hand, but it was clear to anyone's eye that she was a deft hand at spells and that it was best not to cross her. If one didn't immediately understand that, they found out the consequences very quickly (as many had that first week of school in September).

"If I catch any one of you brats sleeping in my class again," She snapped, "I'll have that filthy Squib scum string you up by your toenails, _after_ I curse your arse black and blue." Quiet swept the class and any students who had looked drowsy before were now wide awake, blinking owlishly.

Alecto allowed herself a small, victorious smile and her fingers tightened on her wand.

"Now, today, class, you'll be learning why Muggles hated wizarding kind enough for us to go into hiding." Her eyes narrowed briefly. "Not that we needed to, mind; if only the patchy groups of magic folk had taken a stand against the muggle-loving fools, we'd have been free of them."

Stefan's hands tightened around his quill, but forced himself to not let his face show any emotion at all; Alecto's tirades could sometimes last the entire period and they were all about the inferiority of muggles, Muggleborns, and blood traitors.

So he settled himself down into his chair for a long morning.

* * *

Katherine Petrova swept into the Malfoy Manor without her usual grandiose, preferring to keep her hand down that dark, moonless night. Her dark hair, curled into precise ringlets, was covered by her Death Eater hood, though her face was bare of the ghastly white mask. Her steps were focused and determined, though quiet as she went straight to the dining hall.

The table stretched from the door to the other side of the hall, which was a great distance (around the same size as the one at the Petrova Manor, if she were to put any thought on the matter) and it was filled with all of the Death Eaters, exempting the Carrow siblings and Snape.

Katherine went to take her usual seat towards the end of the table, but one of the others, Scabior, leered at her.

"'E wants ya up there with the Malfoy's, luvvie. I'd watch yur back more 'en usual, if I were you." He winked and Katherine felt her heart stutter in her heart for the briefest of seconds before she schooled her features into a cool and aloof glance.

She turned back and headed towards the head of the table and took her new place next to Narcissa Malfoy. The other woman didn't spare her a glance; if Katherine wanted pity, she'd get none from her. Other Death Eaters even glanced at Katherine with vindictive eyes; the Malfoy's were out of their Dark Lord's good graces and if Katherine Petrova was next to them, you'd better bet she'd done something wrong.

Silence fell over the hall and without even looking up Katherine knew that the Dark Lord had entered and was sweeping to his chair. The belly of his precious Nagini could be heard dragging along the stone floor as she slithered with her master.

"Katarina Petrova," The Dark Lord with a perfect Bulgarian pronunciation, "You've displeased me."

Katherine looked at him coolly, her face belying nothing of the fear stirring in her belly. "Doing what, my Lord? I've done nothing-"

"That is it," He hissed, voice loud in the cavernous room, "You've done nothing of what you said you would! You were recruited to bring the half-blood filth Damon Salvatore over to our side! You were meant to make sure that we had eyes in the Order of Phoenix; you told as much to Lucius when you asked to be recruited. Did you not?"

Katherine swallowed. "I can still-"

"No," Voldemort's voice echoed, "He's gone to ground with his Mudblood friend and two others. You're not getting another chance." He trailed off and glanced at the dark corners of the room behind him before looking back at Katherine gleefully. "Of course, you'll be punished. You know about my special acquaintance, don't you?"

Everyone within the Death Eater's ranks knew about Voldemort's special acquaintance; it was rumored that the man was so ruthless in his torturing methods that you would lose your mind within two hours of meeting him. That was even before the full moon; you had naught to worry about then, because you'd be in so much pain from his teeth in your flesh that any idle thoughts of keeping your sanity fled, if you even survived the attack.

Katherine felt her breath leave her in one fell swoop as the figure stepped from the shadows; he was of average height, had tight blonde curls, and a face that was curled into a gleeful grin at the prospect of fresh blood.

"Katarina," Voldemort's pet werewolf said, "how very nice to meet you."

"You'll be spending some time with him for a while," the Dark Lord's face curled into a victorious smirk, "I know that you've heard of his reputation, Katarina; he's infamous." The handsome werewolf preened and his smirk grew wider.

Voice cracking with unadulterated fear, Katherine whispered his name and it echoed off of the stone walls ominously, like an omen.

A very, very bad omen.

"Klaus."

Klaus Mikaelson bared his teeth.

* * *

Damon's life was organized into the things he would do and things he would _not_ do.

Camping had always been on the _do not do_ list.

"Stop whining or you'll give our location away," Alaric hissed. He, Damon, and Tonks and Remus were hiding out in the Forest of Dean behind large, formidable trees and glamour charms. Snatchers – witches and wizards that worked for the Ministry in collecting Muggleborns and "traitors" – were on their tails and had nearly gotten the small group once before. They'd only escaped due to some quick thinking on Remus' part.

"Duffer," Damon muttered back, not spiteful.

"Shh," Tonks hissed, hair flashing an angry red once before settling, "You'll both be the death of us!"

Remus raised his hands and put a finger to his lips and while they quieted down, the clear sound of Apparition sounded with numerous thunder-sounding cracks!

"Run!" Remus whisper-shouted and the group sprinted off, away from the party hunting them. Damon chanced a glance behind him and almost wished he hadn't; Death Eater Scabior was heading it with a few others of his slimy friends.

"We need to Disapparate," Damon snapped at his friends, "right now."

"This is probably a bad time to tell you," Tonks shouted back at him, "but I can't Apparate anymore for the next six months!"

"Why the hell not?" Damon roared.

"I'm pregnant!"

"Oh, God," Damon moaned, even as he dodged a spell aimed at the back of his head. "Now she tells us?"

"Shut up and keep running!" Alaric bellowed loudly.

"Fine by me!" Damon snapped back and he pushed himself faster, not chancing a glance back at the Snatchers. Since their impromptu camping trip, they'd been listening to the secret radio station for the resistance set up by the Weasley twins and their best friend Lee Jordan. Of course, they all had code names so as to not give away their ever changing locations.

An idea lit up in Damon's mind and he rummaged in his pocket while still running; he needed some kind of object that was large enough for four people to touch and transport them. He snatched out his wallet and mournfully realized that this would have to work. Remembering his Auror training, Damon muttered the incantation underneath his breath, but couldn't get the wand motions right because of his gait.

Forced to stop, Damon caught his breath and finally made the portkey.

"Damon!" Alaric shouted at the same time that someone's _incarcerous_ spell wrapped itself around Damon's legs.

"Well, damn," Damon huffed but inside he could feel the panic rising in him. He chucked his wallet at Alaric's retreating back, making the wizard stop. Their eyes met for five seconds, in which Damon mouthed _portkey._

"I can't leave you," Alaric hissed, but the Snatchers were advancing.

"You have to," Damon snapped, "Get Tonks and Lupin out of here and to one of the safe houses for the Order. I'll be fine." Scabior finally caught up and Alaric had to sprint to catch up to Tonks and Lupin.

"After him!" Scabior screamed, and a few of his Death Eater henchmen trailed Rick's retreating form. When they came back empty handed, Damon breathed a sigh of relief. Scabior heard him and the Death Eater sneered in response, lashing out by kicking Damon in the abdomen.

Damon coughed. "Looks like you won't be getting Death Eater of the Month. Better luck next time."

Scabior's sudden grin was off putting. "Oh, but the Dark Lord _really_ wants you, Salvatore. Yur mum was a bloodtraitor, you've 'elped out the brat Potter, and yu're a part of the Order of the Phoenix; yu're pretty special t' him. And who knows; maybe yur little girlfriend is still alive. If not, you can go out the same way she did, eh?"

Damon felt himself pale, but pretended to scoff. "Katherine? She's his special little pet. Why would she be dead?"

Scabior crooked a finger at Damon, "She failed to bring _you_ in." Without further ado, the Snatcher laid a grubby hand onto Damon's shoulder and Disapparated.

They appeared in the middle of a room that looked like it had once been great, but now was dark and haunted. Lucius Malfoy and his wife were there and both looked haggard and grey.

"You look like you need some Pepper Up," Damon remarked as he was tossed to the floor carelessly, "You're going dark, Narcissa. Which is a little odd, but considering you already have white hair, I guess it makes sense for it to turn black instead."

"Shut it, filth," Lucius sneered and then looked towards Scabior. "You didn't get the others?"

"'E made a portkey for 'em," Scabior said, clearly unhappy.

"He'll be fine for now," Lucius said, "Put down in the cellar, with the others."

"That sounds ominous. Can I pass?" Damon asked, but he only got a stinging hex to the face in response. He hissed and blinked rapidly, missing the pathway down to the Malfoy dungeon, in which he was tossed head first.

Damon blinked and things were blurry, but he could make out the wand maker, Ollivander, and a dark huddled mass in the corner of the room. The body was thin and unmoving, long dark ringlets tangled. Damon froze and felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach.

"No," He murmured and he scrambled to his feet, quickly moving to the figure's side. He turned her over and he barely kept himself from leaping backwards. As it was, he leant over and wretched. When finished, Damon wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket sadly, but then focused on the witch in his lap.

Katherine was nearly unrecognizable as the Bulgarian beauty he'd known all of his life. She was marred with bruised and cuts and new scars and if there was an exposed skin that wasn't cut up, it was deathly pale. The dark mark on her left arm looked like she had attempted to scratch it out with her fingernails.

She was emaciated and upon further inspection, Damon found a pool of blood beneath her thigh. He carefully removed that part of her robe and despite his previous burning hatred for her, felt a welling of pity rise in his throat.

Her thigh had a large bite mark that was unmistakably from a werewolf.

* * *

Stefan went to breakfast with a feeling of deep satisfaction; their new DA had gotten away with vandalizing the school walls with things derogatory towards Death Eaters and Voldemort and his new world order in general, along with positive things about the Order, DA, and Harry Potter. He passed one of the magical writings on the stone wall: **Harry will triumph.** Others were: **Long Live the DA** and **Lord Voldemort is a Fraud.** The best part was that there was absolutely no proof that they had done it, and Snape could not accuse them.

Things were also working out well for him, Elena, and Neville in furthering their trip to the Chamber of Secrets to get the basilisk fang. They had thrown about several plans, and had decided that they would go down into the Chamber the next coming Saturday. Everything was shaping up well, indeed.

But then he got to the Great Hall.

It seemed that the entire Hall got eerily quiet as soon as he'd stepped through the door, and Neville had risen and was walking towards him swiftly.

"You'll want to look at the Prophet this morning," Neville muttered quietly and gently led Stefan to sit next to him and Elena. "I'm so sorry."

Stefan saw two headlines and nearly passed out from fright.

**DAMON SALVATORE CAUGHT BY SNATCHER**

**AUROR SALVATORE TO PAY FOR CRIME**

Elena's hand found his underneath the table and Neville clasped a hand onto his shoulder, which steadied Stefan enough to stop feeling lightheaded. The day only got progressively worse from there; Bonnie and her Ravenclaw friend Luka were somehow caught out for the vandalism midafternoon, and were set to be punished publicly at dinner.

"We'll hide them in the Room of Requirement," Elena said hurriedly, "They'll be safe in there." And so in between classes, Stefan and Neville hustled the two Ravenclaws into the Room of Requirement, where they would have to stay indefinitely until a new answer could be thought of.

"We'll bring you food," Stefan swore.

"Things can only get better," Neville attempted to cheer Stefan, but his words only served to backfire at dinnertime when Bonnie and Luka's absence was found out.

"Stefan Salvatore, Elena Gilbert, Neville Longbottom, and Caroline Forbes are to come to my office after dinner for questioning of the whereabouts of their fellow . . . classmates," Snape drawled and shivers ran down each of the accused spines.

The Gryffindors ate hurriedly and remarked on Caroline being called upon, because of her association with both them and Bonnie. Afterwards, they made their way to the Headmaster's office together, Caroline in toe.

She was shivering like a leaf and Stefan spied a ring of bruises along her wrists that looked like finger prints. When she saw him looking, she quickly covered her skin with her robes.

"Care, are you alright?" He asked quietly.

"I'm fine," She murmured and alarm bells sounded in Stefan head; Caroline Forbes was not one for being demure.

"Care," Elena tried.

"Leave it," Caroline said forcibly and shook off their attempts of conversation. They arrived at Snape's office to find the Carrow's there and waiting.

What followed was a vigorous session of questioning that ended with Elena and Caroline being excused and Neville and Stefan being sent to the Carrow's for discipline. Elena and Stefan exchanged worried glances, but Elena promised to use the opportunity to pry into Caroline's obvious problem.

.

.

.

In the Carrow's office, Stefan and Neville were seated side by side and they waited for Alecto or Amycus to start doling out their punishments.

"Vandalism is a horrible crime," Amycus started, "It's destructive and causes distraction."

"It shows you have no respect for the school or its faculty," Alecto continued.

"To remedy this, we'd like to teach you to have a little respect for us," Amycus finished, "Sister, would you like to start or shall I?"

"I'll take the lead," Alecto said gravely and stepped forwards. "Mister Salvatore, please rise."

Horribly confused and slightly terrified, Stefan stood. Behind him and still sitting, Neville's fingers clutched the bottom of his seat tightly.

"There's a good boy," Alecto smiled widely, " _Crucio._ "

Stefan dropped like a rock and screeched. Faintly, he heard Neville shouting out, but it was only background; the forefront of his mind was only on the horrible and violent pain being wreaked on his body. When the pain stopped, Stefan was left trembling and gasping. Neville's hands ghosted over his sides for a second before he too was dropped with the curse.

"No," Stefan rasped, but Amycus continued for several more seconds.

When the older wizard let up, he said almost happily, "I hope that taught you your lesson, boys. Back to your dormitories now."

Stefan and Neville helped each other leave the DADA classroom and climb up the Gryffindor Tower. Stefan stumbled in front of the portrait, but Neville caught him, strong hand holding him up. The Fat Lady was so startled at the sight of them that she did not ask for the password, merely swinging the door in. There was no one in the Common Room at all; perhaps Elena was still with Caroline or maybe she was with Bonnie and Luka.

They fell into separate chairs in front of the fire, and each let out of relieved breaths. After a moment of silence, Stefan rasped, "I can't believe they just did that."

Neville said nothing.

"I'm sorry," Stefan continued, "that you had to watch-"

"'You're sorry that I had to watch.'" Neville stated flatly. "Don't be sorry, Stefan; it wasn't your fault that the Carrow's are mad. All the Carrow's did was remind me that we have a job to do; get the fang and destroy the horcrux." He leant forwards with his hands on his knees. "All they did was remind me that we have to stick together and protect all of our friends. They reminded me that Lexi is out there somewhere, hiding from this maybe, but more likely is in the thick of it fighting with the Order."

Stefan knew that that wasn't all the Carrow's had done; they'd brought back horribly painful memories for his best friend about his parents that were in Saint Mungo's for life because of the Cruciatus curse performed on them by Bellatrix, her husband, and Barty Crouch Jr. They'd probably reminded him that none of them were safe in their Hogwarts home anymore and all of them could and might be subjected to that same curse that had driven his parents insane.

Maybe he was afraid it would happen to one of them. Or to himself.

But Stefan didn't say any of this aloud; he stood and moved to sit next to his friend comfortingly while they waited for Elena to come back to the Common Room.

Stefan swallowed and thought about his brother and what he was likely going through at the hands of Voldemort. If he was even alive. Would he turn out like Neville's parents? Would he ever be the same again?

"After we destroy this horcrux, we've got to rescue my brother," Stefan told his friend and looked over at Neville imploringly. "I don't think I can do it by myself."

"You won't have to."

**tbc**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I took a couple of liberties in Slytherin house; I made Millicent Bulstrode a half-blood (if she isn't already) and some descriptions of the Atrium have been used from the book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Chapter Twelve: Magic is Might, pg. 241-242, American Edition. I don't own those, if there was ever any real question of that, nor do I own any of the Hufflepuff jokes. (I find them a bit distasteful, myself.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon learns more about Katherine's imprisonment and Stefan and his gang play heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, while (extremely, extremely) late and also a bit short, there is a bright side; the rest of this story is planned out and outlined! So the end is in sight! If you’re still reading, thanks! And I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Part 7: Sinkin’ Soon, Act III**

**King and the Lionheart**

_._

_._

_._

The Gryffindor table was looking bare just three days before Christmas break, but if one would perform a closer inspection, they would find that all of the tables in the Great Hall were looking sparse, with the notable exception of the green bannered Slytherins.  Bonnie and Luka had been rapidly joined in the Room of Requirement by other members of the DA hiding from the Carrow’s; they’d been caught out doing things for the group and now had no way of leaving Hogwarts without being brutally punished by the two maniac sibling professors.  Perhaps the worst thing was that there was that the other professors could do noting besides secretly helping the students along to the hideout when they were escaping.

But Christmas drew ever near, and Stefan felt the pressure building to retrieve the basilisk fang from the Chamber of Secrets; he wanted to get it before their holiday break so that there was little the Carrow’s could do in retribution, even if they caught him and his friends out after dark during their mission.  The previous Saturday they’d attempted to go, but Seamus had steadily grown suspicious of the trio’s quiet whispers and had tailed them.  Stefan, Elena, and Neville had gotten away, but Seamus had not been nearly so lucky; he’d been spotted by Amycus and had had to go into the Room of Requirement that very night and so they had aborted their mission while they still could.

Neville and Stefan were the only boys left in the Seventh Year’s dorm, and they were oft joined by Elena to plot, and though she wouldn’t admit it, a bit of comfort.  With their limited time, they’d finally come up with a risky plan that they would perform that Wednesday night.

.

.

.

“We may not have Harry’s cloak, but we can perform the Disillusionment Charm,” Elena had explained a few days prior, and now she quietly murmured the incantation under her breath and waved her wand as the three of them stood in the Seventh Year’s boys’ dormitory.  Elena’s wand tapped Neville on the top of his skull, and only moments later Neville slowly became unnoticeable; he couldn’t be found, not even if Stefan strained his eyes.

“Did it work?” Neville asked quietly.  His voice seemed to come out of nowhere, making Stefan twitch and Elena grin.

“Yeah,” Stefan said, awed.  Elena was constantly awing him with her talents.

“It’s perfect.”  Elena grinned momentarily and then turned her attention onto Stefan.  “It’s your turn now.”  Stefan let his eyes slip closed and Elena’s slim wand tapped his forehead gently, releasing a sensation similar to that of a raw egg that had been cracked over his head.  He fought a shudder as the slimy sensation washed down his body, head to toes.

He opened his green eyes to find Elena’s gaze just missing his by a few inches.  “How does it look?”

“Can’t see a thing,” Elena promised and then performed the charm onto herself, which included a bit more wand waving than she’d performed on Stefan and Neville.  She melted out of existence the same way Neville, and presumably Stefan, had.  “Ready?”

“Ready,” Stefan and Neville confirmed together.  Stefan fingered his wand in his jeans pocket, flashing back to a memory of Damon bemoaning Mad-Eye Moody crankily saying not to put it there – you’d blow your ass of that way by accident.  The thought made Stefan smile and then grind his teeth; Damon was in trouble, possibly even dead at that moment.  Mad-Eye’s probability of death was even higher.

“Stefan?” Neville asked warily.

“I’m fine.  Let’s go,” Stefan said tersely as he led the way down the steps of the dormitory and through their house, passing through the portrait hole.  The fat lady was sleeping in her painting, snoring loudly enough that Stefan was a little surprised the surrounding paintings weren’t awake.

The trio made their way through the castle as quietly as possible, and headed towards Moaning Myrtle’s lonely bathroom.  The shadows were long and especially dark and their footsteps sounded like gunshots in the night.  Elena stuck out a hand to make the boys pause and she murmured a charm under breath, “ _Silencio_.”  Taking her lead, Stefan and Neville quickly performed the charm as well, and the excess noise they had been making ceased.  They continued.

A sharp meowing made them pull up short soon thereafter; Mrs. Norris was standing in the middle of the hallway in front of them, directly stopping the group from entering the corridor they needed to access to get to Myrtle’s bathroom.  Elena mumbled a soft curse and Mrs. Norris’ head snapped in their direction.  She meowed plaintively.

“We need to stun her or something,” Neville said, but Stefan heard to the confliction in his tone; he didn’t want to hurt Mrs. Norris after all, and surely Filch could stumble upon his cat at any moment.

“I have an idea,” Stefan whispered and then conjured a ball of twine.  He rolled it towards Filch’s friend, distracting the cat long enough for the trio to hustle around her.

When they crept into the bathroom and towards the center, Myrtle was strangely absent.  The room was earlier silent except for the dripping of one of the ceramic sinks.  Stefan stepped forwards after a brief moment of deliberation, and stood before the entrance of the Chamber.

_“Open.”_ Stefan hissed lowly and Neville and Elena both jumped in surprise, though Stefan could not see it.  The entrance shuddered and groaned before the sinks creaked apart slowly, making the trio back up a step.  The sinks performed something almost akin to a dance as the interlocking parts shifted and moved; it created an open tunnel through the floor that went straight down. 

“Do I really need to stay up here?” Elena’s voice startled Stefan, almost making him fall forwards into the long winding slide.

“Yes,” Stefan said firmly, once he’d recovered himself.  “We need you to let us know if someone comes.”  He heard her sigh softly in resignation. 

“I just can’t think of you two alone down there,” Elena murmured.

“Then don’t think about it,” Stefan said quietly and yearned to be able to see her so he could wrap Elena up into his arms and just hold her to his heart, stroking her beautiful dark hair.  “If you hear anything, send us a Patronus.  Until then, think about . . . anything.  What our lives will be like when the war is over; what you plan on being once you graduate.”

Elena didn’t say anything, but Stefan hoped she nodded.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Neville promised and then asked Stefan, “Ready?”

“Let’s go,” Stefan stepped forwards.  “I’m at the edge here . . .” Neville joined his side a moment later and their shoulders brushed each other.  The touch was reassuring and Stefan’s confidence rose.  Together, they jumped.

.

.

.

Damon sat next to Katherine in the dank Malfoy cellar, and his head leaned back against the stone wall.  His wand was gone and so was Katherine’s, leaving them without any kind of security or light.  Katherine had yet to say a word to Damon, but whether or not that because she _wouldn’t_ or _couldn’t_ was still up in the air.

Sudden light flooded the dungeon, making Damon blink rapidly, and the nasty voice that belonged to Wormtail snarled something as another person was shoved through the doorway.  The metal barred door clanged shut and the light disappeared.

“Hello?”  The new voice sounded a little frail, but mostly unafraid.

“Who’s there?” Damon demanded shortly, eyes narrowed and pupils blown in the dark to catch sight of this mysterious newcomer.  The wizard shuffled forwards slowly and warily until Damon could use the dim light to see the man’s face.

“Ollivander?” Damon asked dubiously. 

The white haired wizard raised a hand in greeting and he pulled his lips up into a small smile, creating even more wrinkles on his already lined, aging face.  “Damon Salvatore; your wand was aspen, thirteen and three quarters inches, dragon heartstring, and unyielding.  I remember the day you stepped into my shop with your mum.”

“Wow.” Damon settled back onto his haunches, but was still alert as he drawled, “You remember everyone’s wands.  Must be exhausting.”

“Of course.”  Ollivander was serene still, even in the face of his capture by Death Eaters, and then spied the lump on the ground that was Katherine.  “Is that –”

“Katherine Petrova,” Damon said flatly and one of his hands ghosted over her shivering form to offer any of kind of protection he could give.

“I wasn’t the maker of her wand,” Was all he said, his head tilted thoughtfully.

“Why are you here?” Damon asked suddenly and next to him, Katherine shifted in her sleep. (Well, Damon was assuming she was sleeping, now, but anything was possible.  He certainly wouldn’t put it past her, anyway, to pretend just to get some information from them.)

Ollivander shot a nervous glance towards the doorway that Wormtail had disappeared through, but when no one immediately barged back in because of Damon’s line of questioning, he relaxed minutely.  “You-Know-Who had some questions about the-the _Elder Wand_.”

Damon’s brows inched up towards his hair line.  _That_ was an interesting development.  “Everyone knows that that’s just a tale to scare your kids with.  My mother told it to me when I was younger.”

Ollivander shrugged a little helplessly.  “You-Know-Who seems to think that it’s real, and he greatly desires to obtain it because he believes it will help him kill Harry.”

Damon arched his brows, and then changed the subject, “What’s the date?”

Ollivander frowned.

“Just a few days until Christmas – it was the twentieth when I was captured, see.  How long have you been here?”

Damon shrugged noncommittally.  He cast his thoughts onto Stefan, who would be spending only the second Christmas that they had spent without their parents – the first Stefan would spend without Damon.  He would stay with Neville, Damon hoped, instead of staying alone with Elena in their flat in London.  It would be safer.

“A while,” Damon replied vaguely.  He hoped Rick, Lupin, and Tonks were alright.  His thoughts wandered back to the Elder Wand and its companions, the other Deathly Hallows: the Invisibility Cloak and the Resurrection Stone.  Was Voldemort after the others, as well?  Surely the Deathly Hallows were just stories.  They couldn’t possibly be more, could they?

Katherine shifted again and then she sprang forwards into a sitting position, gasping and clutching her chest.  Her dark eyes were glazed with terror as they roved the dungeon wildly, looking for some unknown assailant.

“Katherine . . .”

She whirled around and cried out, hand dropping to her the bite mark on her pale thigh.  “Damon?” She gasped.  “What –” Katherine tried to get her bearings around her, her eyes wildly searching the darkness still.

“We’re in Malfoy Manor – the dungeon,” Damon explained carefully, and as nicely as possible considering he was still conflicted on what exactly he should be feeling for this woman.  “You look like you were attacked.”

Instead of a witty retort she would normally shoot back at him, Katherine remained silent as her breathing evened out a bit.  Then she threw back her head, releasing wild laughter that made both Damon and Ollivander jump backwards a bit.  She shoved a tangle of her dark hair away from her eyes, still giggling off key.  Her cackles turned to sobs and she huddled into herself. 

“Kill me before he comes back,” Katherine moaned and Damon’s eyes widened a little. 

“Who?” He demanded, creeping closer to her shuddering body.  “Before who comes back, Katherine?”

“The werewolf,” Katherine moaned again.  “The one everyone talks about.”

“Fenrir Greyback?” Damon asked.

“No,” Katherine snapped, swept up into anger, eyes blazing as she spat out his name like it was acid, “Klaus.”

“Who’s Klaus?” Damon asked slowly, hands hovering over the witch’s shoulders in a vague gesture of comfort.  “Who the hell talks about this Klaus guy?”

Katherine trembled.  “Only those who are affiliated with the Dark.  Voldemort has another pet werewolf – one worse than Greyback – and his name is Niklaus Mikaelson.  He’s some kind of accident; a freak of nature.”

Some part of Damon shivered at the name as it tickled some part in the back of his mind.  “What do you mean?  Did mummy and daddy forget to use their protection spells one evening?”

Katherine barked laugher and turned hysterical again, clawing at the bite on her leg; her long and cracked finger nails raked across the wound, making rivulets of blood gush.  “I don’t _know_!  He was in some kind of magical accident or it was a – a curse or something!  He’s not _like_ other werewolves.”

Damon growled in frustration.  He clapped his hands onto Katherine’s shoulders, making the witch hiss and flinch. “But how is he different, Katherine?  Focus!” Despite the fact that he felt just a tiny sliver of pity for her, the wizard was becoming angry with her blathering. 

Katherine shoved him away with a surprising amount of strength and glared at him with furious, desperate eyes.  “Klaus can turn whenever he wants to.”  She finally started to make some sort of convoluted sense.  “I thought he was just You-Know-Who’s pet psychopath, but he’s also nearly invincible.  _He’s a hybrid_.”  Damon tilted his head and behind him, Ollivander was making surprised gasping noises.

“A hybrid?” Damon made a dismissive noise, despite his stuttering heart.  “What kind of hybrid?”

Katherine’s dark eyes were round and dead serious.  “Vampire.  He’s a vampire-werewolf hybrid.”

Ollivander gasped loudly behind them and Damon shook his head.  “That’s not possible.  Tell me another one, Katherine.”

She only cackled again, her mood a wildly swinging pendulum.

“Dear, this is a mite important,” Ollivander stepped a little closer while Damon reeled with the new information.  “Is Klaus the only one of his kind?”

One look into those frenzied eyes and Damon knew the answer.  “And you know what?” She giggled.

Damon and Ollivander exchanged wary glances.  “Hm?” Ollivander asked softly.

Katherine leant forwards and whispered, “For my punishment and to control his beast, Voldemort intertwined the Petrova line with the blood of the hybrids.  Every time Klaus wants to make another monster like him, they need the blood of someone from my family.  _So here . . . I . . . am_.”

.

.

.

Stefan landed roughly on his back, knocking the breath out of him.  Neville lay panting next to his friend, stifling noises of pain.  Stefan sat up slowly, checking his wand and his body to make sure nothing had broken.  “Neville?”

“Bruised, is all,” Neville replied.  “I’ll be fine.”  He tried to grin, but it turned more into a grimace.

Stefan dragged himself to his feet and then stuck a hand out for Neville to grasp.  The brown haired wizard grabbed it, and Stefan hauled him upwards.  They patted themselves down and brushed off the dirt on their muggle attire, sending up a cloud of dust that made them cough erratically.

“Alright there, Neville?” Stefan asked again, green eyes traveling up and down his friend’s form anxiously.

“I’m alright.  You?” Neville replied.

Stefan relaxed a little.  “Fine.”

“Onwards, then?” Neville tried to joke, but the atmosphere was too tense for either to crack a smile.  They trudged forwards together, wands held loosely in their fingers.  The tunnel was long, and there was a lot of debris from the last time someone had entered the chamber, making it slightly difficult to travel.  A few times, Stefan or Neville had to magically move a few roadblocks that stood in their way in the form of large rocks.

They arrived to another doorway, though instead of sinks, this one had snakes carved intrinsically onto the surface decoratively. 

“ _Open,_ ” Stefan hissed once more, and in some kind of unlocking sequence, one of the stone snakes traveled around the circular door, nudging the others to retreat.  Slowly, it opened wide enough for the two students to step inside.  Within was a large cavern that soared over their heads and expanded far beyond their reach.  In the center was the dead basilisk, its body mostly decayed.  The smell of the entire cavern was revolting and almost sent the two teenagers back a step.  They forged on.

Neville was the one to approach the snake; he hesitantly reached inside its mouth and wrapped his fingers around a fang that was the length of his hand and _pulled._ It stuck fast.

“Try another one,” Stefan suggested as he came closer.

Neville licked his dry, chapped lips, and positioned his hands onto another fang, this one slightly smaller but still just as effective.  He gave it a sharp twist and jerk, wrenching it free with a nasty suctioning noise.  The force of it sent Neville sprawling backwards; his head landed on Stefan’s dragonhide boots.  He blinked up at his wryly smiling friend.

“Got it.”

.

.

.

After Katherine’s revelation, Damon and Ollivander actively began looking for a way out of their prison.  They checked for hidden doors in the walls, the ceiling, and the ground; they searched for any weaknesses in the foundations and in the magic warding; but there was nothing, no possible way of escape besides the barred door that Wormtail would shove their food through twice a day.  There didn’t seem to be an end of their captivity in sight.

They were joined by another prisoner shortly thereafter; a goblin called Griphook.  He was short and squat like all goblins, not particularly attractive looking, and had the attitude of a cranky dragon.  Griphook was not friendly towards his fellow captives, and preferred to stay on the far side of the Malfoy dungeon, eyeing them through hooded and wary eyes.

Damon, despite the anger and betrayal he felt for Katherine, kept close to the witch if only to make sure she didn’t die in the cell with them.  “We certainly don’t want the smell of rot on top of everything else,” He’d said cruelly when she’d inquired about his hovering presence.  Ollivander had been scandalized, but Griphook’s face had twisted up into a biting leer.

Katherine had revealed that what very little she knew about Klaus’ hybrid status; he was of the Pureblood line Mikaelson, and was the product of his mother’s secret liaison with a werewolf forty years ago.  Unfortunately, he’d had a vicious run-in with a vampire when he was thirty years old, and was turned.  Around that same time, Klaus’ adopted father had found out about his wife’s infidelity and so when he learned of his pseudo-son’s new condition, cursed him with black magic so that he could not access the werewolf side of his heritage, and therefore would not be a powerful as the young man wished to be.  Voldemort had released him from the curse with one condition; Klaus stay in his debt and kill on command (and murder wasn’t much of a hardship for him, they learned from Katherine).

They remained in captivity for what felt like weeks, but was probably only days, before they were joined by a couple of more prisoners: Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood.

Luna was relatively cheerful as ever.  “Hello, everyone,” She murmured when Wormtail had taken off back up the stairs to his masters.  “Happy Christmas?”

Damon jerked when he realized their new cellmates were still at Hogwarts, and he scrambled up from beside Katherine.  “What’s going on at the school?” He demanded sharply.  “Have you seen Stefan?  Elena?”

Dean shook his head.  “I haven’t been to Hogwarts at all, this year, considering the Ministry has it out for muggleborns now.”  They all turned their attention to Luna, who smiled at them serenely.

“Stefan’s fine,” Luna reassured, “and so is Elena.  They’re helping lead a resistance in the school, called the D.A, with Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley.  No need to worry at all.”

Damon’s head was spinning as he stumbled back.  “No need to worry?”  He felt himself ask faintly. 

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.

.

Stefan, Elena and Neville took the fangs home with them during the holidays to make sure they weren’t discovered, and they were already trying to lay out a plan for the Room of Requirement to find the horcrux there.  It was agreed almost simultaneously that Stefan and Elena would go to Neville’s Gran’s so that they wouldn’t be alone and unprotected at the Salvatore flat.

What they found there with his Gran was entirely unexpected.

“What are you _doing_ here?”

“Waiting for a portkey to take us to a safe house,” Alaric Saltzman replied.  Lupin and a very pregnant looking Tonks were with him, both along for the ride.  “Unfortunately, we can’t tell you where we’re going; it would be a security breach that would lead to more than just our lives threatened.”

“You were with Damon,” Stefan said.  “When they took him.”  He and Rick stood across from each other in the living room while Neville and Lupin put on some tea.  Gran, Elena and Tonks had disappeared up the stairs some time ago, which left Stefan and Alaric together.

Rick looked down.  “Yes,” he confirmed.  He clasped his hands together.  “I’m sorry, Stefan.  There was nothing I could do.”

Stefan’s hands balled up into fists.  “You let them take my brother.”  He didn’t have a family anymore; his parents were gone, his brother was gone.  He felt his face heat up.  “He’s probably going to get killed, if he isn’t already dead.”

“Don’t say that,” Alaric said harshly and took a step forward.  Stefan stood his ground.  “You don’t know that.”

“Of course he’s dead,” Stefan ground out painfully and felt like an anvil was sitting on top of his chest.  “He’s with Vol-,” Stefan began, but Alaric clapped a hand onto his mouth.

“There’s a taboo on his name!  You’ll bring destruction down on all of our heads!”  Rick glared, but the comment only serve to push Stefan over the edge; he ducked out of the older wizard’s hold and forwent his wand altogether – he threw his fist into Rick’s face.

Alaric fell down onto the ground, knocking into the coffee table and making the glass on it shudder.  In the kitchen, the noises abruptly paused and then stomping feet ran toward them.  Lupin and Neville found Stefan with bruised knuckles staring down at Alaric.

“Mate?” Neville asked hesitantly.

“Mr. Salvatore,” Lupin began.

Stefan looked up and his green eyes shined with unshed tears.  Neville took a step forward, and then another and another until he was in front of his best friend.  He pulled him into a hug, which Stefan reciprocated. 

“Everything will work out, mate,” Neville swore.  “It will.”

.

.

.

tbc

**Author's Note:**

> Comment?


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